


Again, Again

by Miniatures



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, M/M, Pining, Romance, This is the real ending you fools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 14:23:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miniatures/pseuds/Miniatures
Summary: He kicks his feet through the water. His body adjusts to the stinging cold until, at last, his mind convinces it that it doesn’t hurt anymore.Or, three summers later, things are starting to get better.





	Again, Again

They arrive, and he’s not there. 

He never is, never will be, but there is a part of Elio that expects him. Why isn’t Oliver reclined in the grass, brushing back the languid curl of his hair and peering into the yellowed pages of a well-loved book? Why isn’t he going over loose pages of his own manuscript with his brow furrowed, waiting for Elio to bother him out of his funk? Why isn’t he stretched out across his mattress, his monstrous height flattened and spread? Why not, why not? 

Even three years on, Elio feels the lack of him. It’s as if someone has hollowed the house of its substance, and what remains is merely a blueprint of what’s meant to be there. He has  followed his father’s advice and felt it all, and he is happy. But every year, returning to the house in Italy in summer brings an ache that he always expects, and for which he is never truly prepared. 

Elio opens the window in his room and breathes in. He can never bring himself to unpack right away. There’s an urgency to arrival, and once the space begins to fill up with the smells and heat of the countryside he lopes out of it, itching to be in water. He passes the pool, and imagines falling in. Instead he finds his bike and mounts it, and flees to his own place. 

The first summer after Oliver, Elio couldn’t be there for more than an hour at a time. Memories would flood his heart, tangible and bright. He could feel the phantom of Oliver’s gaze, his hands, his mouth. It was exquisite pain, and overwhelming pain, and he couldn’t take it for long. 

By the end of August he had begun to heal the place, and by the following summer the riverbank was home again. Still, when Elio touches the shore, he’s hit by the briefest of pangs. 

They talk on the phone sometimes, and they’ve exchanged letters. The correspondences are few and far between, but whenever they occur they are as sharp with feeling as they’ve ever been. Distance hasn’t yet managed to cool Oliver’s charm, or Elio’s wit. Elio thinks it’s impossible to fully escape from such a connection, even though the sad subtext of their speech is ever-looming. 

Still, they don’t talk of anything that matters. Oliver has not been Elio, and Elio has not been Oliver, since the announcement of Oliver’s engagement. Elio knows through his parents that the engagement is still on, but, as of the last phone call, they aren’t married yet. Something to do with money, or the lack thereof. Elio pretends that to ask Oliver about it would be gauche. 

He kicks his feet through the water. His body adjusts to the stinging cold until, at last, his mind convinces it that it doesn’t hurt anymore. 

After a few hours alone, Elio races back to the house. His legs prickle and freeze, the spring water still clinging to his skin turned to ice by wind chill. He relishes the feeling. He considers going into town tonight, but decides to stay home instead. There’s no harm in giving himself a night to adjust to being back. 

He arrives, and he’s there.

At first Elio thinks he must be hallucinating. His nostalgic grief has somehow grown too powerful, and it made an Oliver. But no, his parents are interacting with the spectre, and the spectre is three years older, and the spectre is solid flesh that shows no signs of melting away. 

Elio lets his bike fall and careens over its bulk. Even at twenty he still walks with all his limbs, and he scampers across the grass like an animal only to pull himself up short beside his father. He stares at Oliver, and Oliver stares back as if he thinks he’s imagining Elio, too. 

“And where the hell have you been?” Elio asks, crossing his arms. 

Oliver smiles. “New England, mostly. I recommend the lobster.” 

“Pft. With Old England right across the water? Pathetic.”

“Luddite.”

Elio is distantly aware that he’s grinning. His cheeks already ache with it. He can feel the blueprint beginning to become form. 

Oliver has been meaning to return, he says, and he wanted to keep it a surprise. He’s staying in town, and of course he doesn’t want to distract attention from this summer’s student, but he would love to catch up as much as he can. Elio’s mother insists that he stay for dinner, and he declines. 

“Tomorrow,” he offers. “I ran into Chiara on my way over, and she’s already co-opted my evening.” 

The joy in Elio’s breast is punctured by the reminder of Chiara. Not for any reason other than that recalling Oliver’s past relationships with women brings to mind engagements and weddings and rings, and the last time they called each other by the other’s name. He shrinks, and feels cold. 

Oliver and his parents exchange more lighthearted pleasantries, and then Oliver says his goodbyes for the day. Elio can’t look at him. Not even when his parents fade back into the house, and Oliver pulls him into the sort of one-armed hug one might give a kid brother or a friend. 

He can’t look. He can’t, not until he feels breath on his ear, and hears a whispered, “ _ Oliver _ .” 

Elio freezes. He meets Oliver’s gaze, and becomes lost. Looks at his own shoulder, and sees a large, warm left hand circled around it. The ring finger is bare. 

Oliver’s smile is softer now, and secret, and just for him. 

“Later.” 

He leaves, and for the first time, Elio knows he’ll come back. 

**Author's Note:**

> I reject your ending and substitute my own. Just a quick attempt to patch up my broken heart after I saw the movie yesterday. And cried about it for several hours. And then again today in the shower.


End file.
